Spicy Summers at Atami!
by Flamemajic
Summary: The Ranma gang's on vacation in Atami, but who's this strange guy that's challenging Ranma to a fight? Martial Arts Salsa Dancing is the name of the game this summer vacation, and it looks like a tough battle!
1. Spicy Summers! Dancing in the Streets

Okay, I put way too much effort into the details here. I actually researched salsa dancing a bit, and all of the Martial Arts Salsa Dancing moves in here are puns. Furthermore, the names of the (original) characters are also puns. Did you enjoy the tiny amount of brain teasing?

Oh, and please don't take this fic seriously. I wrote it while in one of two states of mind – sleep deprived or slightly drunk. It's finals time in college, so those are pretty much the only ways you'll find me at my computer late at night.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Ranma ½ - Takahashi Rumiko-sama does. I am not getting one red cent for my writing either, since no one is dumb enough to encourage this madness in such a way.

**Martial Arts Salsa Dancing – Is There Really Such a Thing?! The Tale of a Saucy Summer at the Beach!**

**Chapter One: Spicy Summers at Atami! Dancing in the Streets**

Summer vacation, when you are a teenager, is meant to be savored. You are old enough to know just how valuable and precious such a time is, since you won't get many mush periods of time off in your adult working life. However, you are also young enough to not have such responsibilities upon you, and you can get away with doing all kinds of things.

So, enjoy your summers while they last. That is the idea. Don't, for example, go to places you don't want or with people you don't like. And for heaven's sake, don't give Martial Arts Salsa Dancing a try. That should go without saying, but it has been said just in case. It might sound okay (or perhaps fun if you're of that weird bent in life) but you will only develop a fond memory of that one time… and the recollection invariably ends right there.

Someone really should have said it sooner, I suppose.

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Somehow, Ranma had ended up spending this particular summer break going on a trip to Atami. A great place for the casual vacationer, what with the hot springs and all, but in his case vacation was never so relaxing. And going to a resort is somehow just too tempting for those who own restaurants and are capable of opening up a little roadside yattai to make a few extra dollars during tourist season. And of course that gives certain others a convenient excuse to tag along as well.

So in the end Ranma went on this trip, ostensibly with the Tendos and his father, but the Amazons, Ukyo and even Kuno somehow managed to find their way to Atami as well. Purely coincidence, no doubt. This was to be expected though due to long tradition, and now all that was lacking was for Ryoga to show up in his customary confused and irritated state of mind.

Actually, Ranma was kind of missing his traditional sparring partner right about then. Nothing was more relaxing that getting into a knock-down drag-out fight with ol' Ryoga, and Ranma was in need of such relaxation after four days with the whole Nerima crew in confined spaces and with no distractions to speak of. Yep, it would be convenient if Ryoga were to show up right then. But he was never around when you felt like having him anyway.

Looking for an escape, any escape, Ranma had fled his room at the hotel to roam about the city by himself. Wandering around in a strange city by yourself in the early evening hours might seem like a good idea as well for a vacation. See the sights, eat the slightly questionable food, meet the people…

Such as that person over there. What the heck was he up to? It kind of looked like a street brawl in that some seriously huge guys were ganging up on one smaller one, and there appeared to be a woman in the mix as well. As a matter of fact, the girl actually looked like she could use some saving. Well, there was no reason not to be a gentleman if Akane wasn't around, so this sort of thing piqued Ranma's curiosity. Besides, fights were always an interesting diversion.

It was pretty easy to get a front row seat, especially since no one really wanted to get too close to the whole affair. Three large gentlemen, though the gentleness of their natures might have been in doubt judging from their leather jackets with skulls emblazoned on them, were standing in a half circle around one slight young man in a tidy black suit. The suited man was holding onto the elbow of the young woman, who looked like she'd rather be just about anywhere else. Ranma stepped up just in time to hear the best part of the conversation.

"And so, as you can see, I rather doubt that this young lady would prefer be in your company this evening. After all, what is more alluring than a man who can DANCE?" The capital letters here were strongly implied by the suave one's tone of voice, "Judging from your looks, I rather doubt that any of you possess the amount of grace that such a beauty would require in a partner on the dance floor."

"Wha' tha' 'ell?" The stated lack of smoothness of the large men obviously extended to their vocabulary as well. Not that Ranma could make much commentary, being extremely proficient in Tokyo slang himself, but he made it a point to usually pronounce at least one full word in each sentence. "Dis guy, he jus' insult us, sayin' we not good enuf for tha' lady 'ere."

"Indeed." The man's translational skills were obviously up to par. "I don't believe that any of you are capable of showing her the kind of quality evening out that she deserves."

"Um, you know, I was on my way home anyway…" The dazed looking young woman was trying to make her escape, but it didn't look like the other parties involved were interested. She should have easily realized that whatever her plans for the evening were, they paled in comparison to a clash of machismo… or something like it. All in all, she should have been thrilled to play such a large part in the induction of such a display. She did not seem to appreciate this fact, but this didn't really matter since she was not the main character of interest here.

The guy in the suit seemed to be the most disturbing, or perhaps disturbed, so it seemed fitting to focus on his case a bit more. The other people in this scene were, after all, fairly transparent in their desires and motives. He had however made some rather cryptic commentary about DANCE, and so his deeper meaning should probably be evaluated. This was in consideration of future generations who possibly will have some obscure interest in what the hell he was talking about, exactly.

Ranma, standing at the forefront of such a future generation as he is was indeed made curious, in a morbidly transfixed kind of way, about the answer to just such a question. Not that dancing, in any way, shape or form, really interested him, but this guy was definitely going to be beaten to a pulp unless his DANCE was so jaw dropping that a standing ovation was absolutely required upon its completion. He could then, presumably, escape in the hubbub surrounding such applause.

What in fact happened was that the beefy guys, gentlemen no longer, obviously decided that attempting to talk or grunt in the suit-wearing guy's direction wasn't getting them anywhere, and they should commence with the pulp-beating-into poste haste. Ranma rocked back on his heels slightly while wondering if he should save such a person from his grisly fate, and then recalled that actions like that had a tendency to get people engaged to him. He chose to observe instead. He'd just have to be the first one to call 911 later, to assuage his conscience.

"Come, my lady. We will show these ruffians the power of our DANCE floor spirit." The man grabbed both of the young woman's hands, most effectively keeping her from pulverizing him Ranma noted, as he moved to press her to his side. "Prepare to face the beauty and wrath of Kinryuou School of Martial Arts Salsa Dancing, you scoundrels!"

He then began executing dance steps with startling precision and speed, dragging the young woman along with his movements. Furthermore, Ranma was suddenly much more interested in this fight, having heard those two magical words: Martial Arts. Ah, but what of those other three large people involved? Well, they obviously lacked training. The sight of such a freakish occurrence had rooted them to the ground for a moment in shock, where a wiser and more well-traveled fighter such as Ranma just shook his head and stared.

What followed was worth the wait and lack of witty insults, interestingly enough. Though the young man and his completely confused partner apparently never moved from their position on the sidewalk, all three of their opponents were laid out flat in a matter of seconds. Now, having mastered Tenshin Amaguriken Ranma was normally well capable of tracking the fastest moves just about any opponent could throw. However, here he was completely caught off guard due to a very poorly timed conditioned reflex.

So, he hadn't been struck dumb like the others by the strange opening move of snagging a hapless female and starting to dance in the middle of a fight. Perhaps it was partly the stunning dancing, indeed worthy of that previously mentioned applause, that had distracted him. But it was no doubt mostly due to the fact that the unfortunate young woman had been thrown forward in such a way as that her cleavage was very visible to just about everyone in the southern hemisphere. This 'move' was accompanied by the rather inscrutable battle technique cry of "Basic Step: Verde Neck Drop!" by the young man in the suit.

Female cleavage wasn't an unfamiliar sight to Ranma for various reasons, the majority of which most of Tokyo is aware of, but being witness to such a thing made him flinch automatically in preparation for being clobbered by one or another of his 'fiancées' for laying eyes on another woman's body. In the end, that poorly timed twitch made it so that he missed all of the action, such as it was.

All three big guys were sprawled out on the pavement, out cold. No one, Ranma included, seemed too interested in calling 911 for those scrappers, so the crowd just dispersed with an air of 'oh, that was it? I paid that girl with the short brown hair too much for the tickets.' As for the hero of the scene… he was sprawled out on the pavement as well, with a very clear red handprint on one cheek and a trickle of blood oozing from one corner of his mouth. The young lady was nowhere to be seen, but a very clear new path of destruction led off towards the east. Thunderous crashes and some minor explosions could be heard echoing in the distance. Ranma decided to take to long way back to his hotel.

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**Next Time**: Making a Scene! Kuno's Fight of Love!


	2. Making a Scene! Kuno’s Fight of Love!

You didn't ask for it, but here it is! Chapter 2!

**Chapter Two: Making a Scene! Kuno's Fight of Love!**

Ranma didn't quite make it back to his room before having his crew descend upon him like vultures circling in on a sloth that had somehow gotten lost in the African wilderness. Or maybe not, on the other hand. That analogy was just a little too more apt for describing things that happened to Ryoga instead, if it in fact describes any sort of situation that is worth imagining at all.

At any rate, he was incredibly fortunate to have found solitude for such an extended period of time anyway, so he accepted the return of their presences with his customary grace.

"Mousse! Get the hell offa me, you freak!"

"Ah, Shampoo, the fists of your love strike me like thunderbolts on the lightning rod of adoration!"

"I ain't Shampoo!"

"Ranma Honey, you nearly missed dinner! Where have you been?"

Speaking of which, he hadn't gotten a chance to eat anything beyond those few dozen snacks he'd picked up at the roadside stalls and yattai. He decided he'd better do something about that. "Dinner? Where?"

"Don't you think with anything other than your stomach or your machismo, Ranma?"

"Can't you think of somethin' original to say, instead of repeatin' yourself every five minutes?"

Now he was the one on the sidewalk. He didn't get a hand print though, his mark was more in the shape of a fist. Well, that kind of evened out his karma for seeing a strange woman's chest, he supposed, even though there was no way he was ever going to tell them that. Nope, he was going to wipe the incident from his memory because the females surrounding him seemed to have a creepy way of reading his mind, and then thoroughly warping whatever information they found here to give themselves excuses to punish him. Or hug him, which led to him being punished in the end. Karma points are a pretty flexible kind of currency anyway.

The Nerima mob had been migrating back to the hotel, having converged from multiple directions when Ranma put in an appearance. They were quickly passed by two people running along carrying a simple white stretcher with a body on it and one more person running alongside. "Sir! Sir! Are you alright?" It was a female voice, obviously distraught.

The answering male voice, though muffled by a swollen cheek, was easily recognized by Ranma. "I will recover, but I fear that I will be incapable of competition for a few days, my sweet. This disfiguring mark upon my countenance would do an injustice to the world of Martial Arts Salsa Dancing were I to appear on the dance floor with it."

The others, for the most part, had also paused to watch this interesting scene pass them by. They continued watching as the whole strange little stretcher group disappeared into a hotel, and as it turned out it was the exact same hotel that they were staying in. This seemed an odd occurrence, but perhaps that explained the cheap price they were paying for the rooms. And Ranma had been thinking it was all due to Nabiki being the one who rented them. Well, that was an undeniable factor as well, but apparently this was the place for all the strange vacationers to stay. They certainly hadn't complained overmuch about the near continuous racket and property destruction that Ranma and those associated with him caused.

Having been blatantly upstaged in the act of _Causing A Scene_ on a public street, the group tacitly agreed to retire to their rooms for the aforementioned evening meal. Naturally this came in the form of okonomiyaki and various kinds of Chinese dishes, as was always the case. Ranma was suddenly glad he'd taken the chance to get a little variety into his diet through his afternoon snacks, since eating these kinds of things day in and day out probably wasn't healthy. Actually, Chinese people ate Chinese food every day, didn't they? Okay, so okonomiyaki three times a day probably wasn't too good for you, but he wasn't about to tell Ukyo that. At least he got his vegetables.

Vaguely it occurred to him that since they were on vacation they really ought to be eating out more often, but he came to the conclusion that Ukyo and Shampoo just enjoyed cooking too much. This kind of stuff was probably equivalent to a relaxing hobby for them, and he was almost positive that Nabiki was paying them under the table to help avoid high room service costs and takeout bills. Actually, she might have just dropped hints that preparing him food while on vacation was a sign of love, like dedication to your cooking equaled up to dedication to your love or something weird like that. Yep, he wouldn't put it past her to get them to do it for free.

Pondering the nature of the origins of his meals was always a relaxing break from actual thought. Ranma had become a connoisseur of such deviations over the years, so much so that he barely felt the need to take a step into that terribly boring and irritating realm of Serious Contemplation. That being said, he put the thought, image and cognitive recognition of Martial Arts Salsa Dancing out of his mind entirely within a few minutes. This was unfortunate, when looked back upon with age and experience, due to the fact that he then didn't manage to anticipate the end to his evening because he hadn't been thinking about it at all.

The group traditionally took up residence on one of the back porches of the hotel for these mealtimes, mostly due to the fact that they had been gently persuaded not to use grills and whatnot inside. This made perfect sense, but had to be enforced due to the fact that Ranma preferred to laze about indoors and take advantage of the shade in this hot weather. And naturally, the best way to make sure your beloved's food is one hundred percent fresh and furthermore that he eats _it_ instead of, say, some kung pao chicken was to cook it right there in front of him.

These porch areas were, of course, open to the public. This noted Public, present during mealtimes, usually watched with varying degrees of horror, amusement and outright stupefaction as Ranma and his pals went about their routine. It was not customary for anyone to approach the group, because a kind of universal common sense prevailed among normal Japanese citizens that stated 'do not associate with crazy people, especially crazy people in large groups'. This apparently did not extend to Martial Artists however, particularly those who have survived to master their arts and therefore must have a certain amount of padding around their brains.

It was near the end of their meal that they became aware of the problem. The issue was this: someone in a suit was partaking of the feast that had been prepared for the half dozen or so displaced Nerima residents. Furthermore, he was blatantly hitting on every female present including Nabiki, who was unimpressed, Kasumi, who was polite, and Ranma, who had somehow ended up in the hotel's fountain during the last few minutes.

The situation escalated from a very simple starting point. Apparently detecting mass quantities of food in the offing, this spiffily dressed young man had wandered over to have a bite. And of course since members of the opposite sex were present in fairly high concentration, the company probably attracted him as well. He had managed to procure a shrimp okonomiyaki from Ukyo, and was eating with grace. And utensils. This alone set him apart among the group and made his presence notable.

"I must say that I had been unaware of such a bevy of beauty was present here at my own humble accommodations." No one was quite sure who he was talking to, so no one bothered to reply. The females in question were numbed to such language, having put up with Kuno for an extended period of time already in that day. All males of competitive age (and one female) twitched in response to the pick up line however. It was unknown whether this was due to some jealous impulse, an instantaneous nauseous feeling, or a sullen 'why didn't I say it first?' reaction.

In particular Kuno had sensed a person who was edging in on his particular niche within the group, and immediately elected for action to remove his competition. It probably didn't help to nurture whatever need for reflection he might have had that the mystery man was inching closer to both Akane and the Pigtailed Girl, who had ended up sitting next to each other somehow. His bokken, never far from grasp, was instantly in hand and furthermore pointed _at throat._

An epic clash of egos thus commenced. The rest of the group had the common sense to pull back, even Mousse though he wasn't quite sure who was fighting who. He only knew that Shampoo wasn't involved because he had one of her hands clasped in his own as they stood back to watch. Ukyo's repeated beatings with a large spatula did little to get him to return her appendage.

Back in the impromptu fighting ring, Kuno and the Mystery Man faced off in a whirlwind of excessive vanity. Kuno began the confrontation in his usual style. "You dare to, in front of my very person, come forward and make overtures towards _both_ my dear Akane Tendo and Pigtailed Girl? You are both shameless and mannerless!"

"Ah, but how was I to determine that such beauties were taken? And furthermore by one man alone! Surely, sir, you have not the amount of affection in yourself to spread fairly between both? How callous and unthinking, to maintain two flowers when there is only enough water for one!"

Besides being a very disturbing description of Kuno's love, this was also an extremely good point to bring up as Kuno had repeatedly admitted to torturing himself over just such a quandary in the past. There was no way the Mystery Man could know this, but luckily Kuno had managed to think up a reply to just such a comment during all those sleepless nights. "Hah! Better to spread my own fiery passion thin than allow either to fall under the inadequate affections of one such as yourself! Half of me is worth ten – no, one hundred! – of you!"

Ranma was gagging in the background, as the mental imagery and extravagant dialogue were just too much on a full stomach. Akane was investigating the surroundings for some large, irregular object, most favorably with a pointy edge or two, to throw at the pair of dueling dimwits. All of the older members of the group, from Kasumi on up, had found somewhere more pleasant to be at the moment. Nabiki was nowhere to be seen, undoubtedly having come to the conclusion that there was no profit to be made on this affair. The only ones who remained were the young martial artists, who had nowhere better to be and didn't mind a show. They could block out the dialogue later.

Various proclamations of love and derogatory remarks about the other's culture, education, training, and taste in clothing were tossed around, and it was beginning to become rather boring. Kuno had indeed met his match, and the Mystery Man looked a bit worn as well. Truly a duel to the death. Ranma managed to recover her composure by the time Akane had to give up on finding a throwable object. Since most of these had already been destroyed in the previous days of their stay, she was short in supply that particular evening. Luckily, Ranma knew just what to do to trigger some actual action. Then it was just a matter of picking a side.

"Go for it, Upperclassman Kuno! Don't let him get away with damaging my honor like that!"

Momentarily forgetting his opponent, Kuno swiveled to face her, his arms open wide. "Oh, Pigtailed Girl! Forgive me for allowing such an injustice to prevail for even a moment! I shall deal with him –"

This proclamation of the justice bringing kendo master was cut short by an irate sneak attack, though whether or not it was actually sneaky was a subject of later debate. Kuno had indeed turned his attention from his opponent, and the other didn't bother being quiet about his intentions. "Break Step: Brava Shine!"

The attacker didn't move from his position, though he did go through some convolutions which involved sliding one foot forward, twisting halfway around, and kicking Kuno in the chin. This was followed by a completion of the turn, sliding the feet back together and a return to a dramatic pose. Kuno hit the ground a moment later.

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**Next Time**: Challenge! Dance Like There's No Tomorrow!


	3. Challenge! Dance Like There’s No Tomorro

**A/N: **This chapter was actually pretty hard to write… I think Ranma is just a little too good at getting himself into trouble, and it was hard to pick exactly the right way for him to do it this time.

**Chapter Three: Challenge! Dance Like There's No Tomorrow!**

There was a momentary silence while they stared at Kuno's remains. The victor straightened his suit coat lapels and brushed off some imaginary dust. Ranma was the first to speak. "Cool! I actually got to see him move this time…"

"This time?" Akane moved forward to poke Kuno with one toe.

"Is he dead?" Ranma sounded about as concerned as if she was inquiring on the state of a cheese ripening.

"I don't think so." She proceeded to poke him a few more times to be sure before turning on Ranma again. "Why did you say 'this time,' Ranma? Are you running around starting fights all over town?"

Ranma rolled her eyes. "Don't be a dummy." Before Akane could deal out swift justice, she continued, "I saw this guy lay out three street thugs earlier this afternoon, is all."

"Ah, you were present during that wasteful brawl? I humbly apologize for your eyes having to take in such a scene." Suit-boy had somehow scooted closer in the last few seconds. He grasped one of her hands with both of his and lifted it to his chest, sniffing scornfully as he recalled the incident. "It was unworthy of my skills."

Normally when Kuno was taken out of the running such painful dialogue was immediately put to an end. It was a rare circumstance that two such people could be in the same place at the same time, but in this case it meant that there was still one person who should probably be unconscious, for the betterment and sanity of all those involved. The only issue now was to find a convenient excuse to create this desired outcome.

Ranma attempted to retrieve her hand from its captivity while Akane, Ukyo and Shampoo took the opportunity to draw cat whiskers and swirlies on Kuno's face with a permanent marker. Mousse was currently occupied with harassing a bellhop.

And then the peaceful scene was interrupted by the arrival of one more stranger into their midst. "Sir! Sir! You weren't in your room, and I was terrified something had befallen you in your condition! How could you wander off like that without informing me?" This person was a graceful young woman with long, tied back hair and wearing what appeared to be some sort of evening gown.

"Oh, Tsuya." He cast a glance at her, apparently not anywhere near as concerned about his own health as she was. And he looked really good for someone whose bodily state was in such question, except for a bruise under one eye. He finally let Ranma go, just was she was considering more drastic measures such as being really, really cute and then hitting him in a sensitive spot… because that was the easiest solution for most problems in her girl form.

It might have been expected that Kuno's conqueror would then return to his own companion, but instead he proceeded to grasp Akane's hand and drag her to her feet. Kuno was abandoned with a half drawn swirly on one cheek. "Now, I have already comforted your friend, but I am sure that you are just as in need of my support after being under the thumb of one such as him." Kuno's body was indicated with distain.

"Actually, not really…" She began making her own attempts to escape his grasp and his attentions.

Ranma rolled her eyes and stepped over to Ukyo's still hot grill where a convenient kettle of water was warming. Nothing goes with a nice fresh okonomiyaki like a steaming cup of tea or a fiancé with correct anatomy, after all. She took a moment to dump it over her head and return to guy form.

As was expected, the whole transformation from girl to guy went completely over the suited guy's head, and he apparently didn't notice it at all. Not that Ranma was trying to be sneaky or anything, but he had simply noticed that people would just tune out weird things if you acted like it was the most normal thing in the world. Which it essentially was for him anyway, after all this time.

After taking a moment to wring out his pigtail – and it never did seem to get completely dry these days – Ranma walked over to Mystery Man and Akane, who was still being harassed. He honestly didn't know what she was waiting for, since this guy was definitely related to Kuno somehow and there were _ways_ of dealing with those kinds of people.

"Hey man." Ranma put on a grin and came to a stop next to Akane, planning on having a nice, reasonable chat with this guy about his unique and interesting fighting style. They could have a pleasant conversation, maybe eat some more okonomiyaki, then go their separate ways and meet as friends or at least comfortable acquaintances in the future. That was the way things were generally supposed to work out, right? They were both respectable martial artists, after all. He would even put up with the Shakespearian dialogue.

The Mystery Man glanced up, immediately unimpressed by Ranma's suave air. Maybe he'd pay more attention to him if he was wearing a suit as well? But it seemed like a waste to wear expensive clothing when one got wet all the time, and in various waters of questionable origin and purity. Someone ought to invent a waterproof tuxedo, Ranma decided, just for the betterment and convenience of society.

His contemplation of the patent system behind such a design was cut short by a dismissive snort, emanating from the man nearby wearing the non-waterproof suit. "You are not a friend of that _bokken_ wielding ruffian, I hope."

Before Ranma could explicitly, with diagrams and pictures, tell the guy just how much that was NOT the case, he continued, "After all, I would hate to have to indulge in yet another senseless and inelegant battle tonight."

All the fighters present blinked for a moment. Then the Kuno Translation Mechanism – available from your friendly neighborhood Nabiki for only $19.95, order yours today – kicked in and the implications of the statement became clear.

"Oi." Ranma's grin was gone the way of the dinosaurs and good rock music. "You sayin' that a fight against me would be 'senseless and inelegant'?"

"Wow Ranma, you managed to pronounce both words." Akane's sideline comment was lost in the blaze of fighting _ki_ that abruptly filled the area.

"In short, yes, that is exactly the case." The Mystery Man dropped Akane's hand and took a step back, obviously measuring Ranma up in his gaze… and then dismissing him. Ranma bristled as the guy proceeded to _turn his back on him_, and start to walk away. And he managed to look cool while he did it too, damn it all! "After all, since you consort with someone who practices the outdated and unattractive art of kendo, I can only imagine that your own fighting style is equally ineffective."

"Ineffective?!" Ranma's fists were clenched as he vibrated with the sheer volume of his new rage. That was a direct insult to his manliness if he'd ever heard one!

Ranma's focus narrowed down to the spotless black suit before him. There was no way this guy was going to get away with walking away while looking cool. The young man was stepping up to his friend – Tsuya, or whatever – and beginning to speak when Ranma darted forward, one fist raised to knock the putz and his super clean suit down into the dirt. It was the only fitting punishment, after all.

He never quite got the chance. One moment he was closing in, the next he got a close up view of yet another dazzling dance move.

The dancer had grabbed his partner instantaneously as he detected Ranma's battle _ki_ moving in, and the pair had swept into a stunning blur of motion. Chest to chest, hands intertwined, they had turned to face him in only a moment, their feet kicking upwards in perfect synchrony.

Ranma was nailed directly in the chest and in the pride as well, because that move was indeed damned elegant, and his charge probably hadn't been even close. He found himself unexpectedly sailing through the air and landing… right _next_ to the fountain. One close call was avoided for the night, anyway. It really wouldn't have been proper to issue a challenge in his girl form right then.

He was back on his feet in just a moment, fists still clenched as he glared at the smooth pair. He didn't bother going at them again, since now he was outnumbered as well. Besides, if he tried anything he had the feeling that the situation would only get worse… and several of his present fiancées looked about ready to jump in at any moment. Ranma was pretty sure that Nabiki's 'No Brawls' rule would apply in just such a situation, and he didn't want to pay up on whatever fine she chose to levee against him for breaking it.

Unaware of the kind of financial devastation he had just avoided due to Ranma's prudence, the salsa dancer sighed as if strongly put upon by the whole situation. "Surrender. There is no way for one such as yourself to beat me in honorable battle."

"No chance in hell!" Ranma snarled back. Even if he couldn't fight here, there was no way he was just going to let this drop! "I'm gonna beat the crap outta you! Just name the time and place!"

"I see that you are determined to follow this through. How unfortunate." He paused, leaning backwards slightly while using one hand to push his bangs up and away from his face. Classic Pretty Boy pose, basically. That and having a young woman in an evening gown hanging off of one arm was enough to incite some really annoying sparklies as well. "Well, in that case you shall be taught a lesson."

"A lesson? How's that?" Ranma sneered, actually quite annoyed that he'd been beaten to the Pretty Boy pose by this guy.

After only a second of thought, the young man began stating his terms. "There is a very popular dance club down near the piers where all of the best Martial Arts Dancers of Atami go to advertise their skills. They are having an open dance floor next week, and that will be the grounds for our duel. A duel of Martial Arts Salsa Dancing!"

"Dance club, eh?" Ranma cracked his knuckles threateningly. "You got it! I'm gonna kick your ass where everyone can see!"

"Very well! I shall show you the depths of your own gracelessness at that time. Until next week then." He paused to bow and wink at Akane before being punted off into the distance by Ranma, who was in no mood to allow such impertinence. His gowned friend immediately ran into the distance, extrapolating his approximate landing point based on the arc of his trajectory. And people say that math isn't good for any real world applications. What do they know?

"Heh. One week. Now all I gotta do is learn a little bit o' Martial Arts Salsa Dancing so I can totally kick his ass…" Ranma paused for a moment. "I wonder if they have classes at the Y?"

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**Next Time**: Dance Lessons are Never Free! Ryoga's Fierce Training


	4. Origins and Culture, The Teachers Appear

**A/N**: Sorry for the wait. I took a deviation down Lemon Lane. It was a terrible task to rightfully return… to this fic. Damn. There goes my alliteration spree. Nah, I was also very, very sick for several days, and it shows I think. My brain's not back up to full capacity yet.

::sigh:: The more characters appear, the harder it is to write! To keep all of them straight, and give them screen time in a believable way… sorry Shampoo fans, she's kind of being left in the dust. I really wanted to have random Mousse moments though, so I couldn't leave her at home.

BTW, for (nobody) who asked, this is not going to be a drawn out fic. Definitely less than 10 chapters… maybe only about 7 or so. Don't worry, the pain won't last. Chin up, stay strong and you'll survive to the end.

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**Chapter Four: Origins and Culture. The Teachers Appear!**

"Martial Arts Salsa Dancing? Why the hell did you accept such a challenge?" Ryoga had finally put in a much belated appearance later in the evening. Somehow, he'd ended up on the roof of the hotel, though he was almost positive that he'd never walked through the building. At any rate, Ranma had found him there when he sought a really high place to perch and sulk while contemplating the demise of his enemies.

There had been the traditional attack, with a battle-death cry to start. Ranma had gotten to vent some frustrations, and so had Ryoga. After all, being really, really lost during summer vacation is almost as bad as somehow getting roped into Martial Arts Salsa Dancing competitions during summer vacation.

Ranma was currently sprawled out on the roof tiles in a manner that just begged to have him pushed right over the edge. Luckily Ryoga was a little too far away to give in to such temptation. "Aw c'mon. It's dancing. How hard can it be? I mean, you just shake your groove thang or whatever…"

Ryoga gave him a disbelieving stare, but Ranma was used to those. "It's _salsa_ dancing. Salsa."

"Aaaand…?"

"Do you even know what salsa dancing is?"

"Of course I do!" Ranma was immediately on his feet, fist raised. They had been having an almost normal conversation for all of two minutes, and so a fight had to be instigated before they could continue. Besides, everyone knew salsa was a kind of food. Duh. How this was tied into dancing he wasn't sure, but if there was food involved there was no way he was going to lose. Unless they made him cook it. But this was supposed to be a dance competition, right?

"Here you are!" Akane's voice broke into his thought patterns rudely, "And Ryoga! When did you get here?"

"Um, just a little while ago…" Ryoga was instantly stuttering and quivering, one finger inching downward to punch some nice holes in the tile roof. Ranma grumbled to himself and sat back down. And he'd been so looking forward to destroying something too. Girls had an uncanny ability to show up when he felt like doing property damage though – maybe it was some kind of psychic phenomenon.

"Well, it's nice to see you again." Akane finished climbing up and sat down next to the lost boy. Ranma idly wondered if the hotel would make them pay to fix the leaky roof later. Well, hopefully it just wouldn't rain while they were there. Akane continued adding to Ryoga's distress. "You've been gone for weeks this time! Were you off on vacation somewhere?"

"S-sort of, I guess…"

"Jeez Akane, can't you tell he just got lost again? He's probably been in the Tokyo subway system for the last week and a half." This was actually a generous estimate. Subway tunnels were naturally treacherous places to be, from Ranma's experience, so he had no doubt that someone like Ryoga would have no problem being lost down there for months on end.

"Shut up Ranma, you insensitive jerk! And after I came up here to check on you too!"

"Check on me? Feh. Why'd you do that?"

"Because you took on another martial arts challenge, and you don't know anything about it! Don't you get tired of making a fool out of yourself every week?"

"Hah! Like I was tellin' Pig-Boy here, there's no way I'm gonna lose some sissy dance competition!" Wait a minute. Ranma paused at the completion of his own statement, his tongue giving voice to a concept that hadn't actually occurred to his brain. If it was a 'sissy dance competition', and he was participating, did that make him…?

Akane ignored his introverted wrath, instead getting around to the topic that Ranma had been trying to find a way to bring up himself.

"Ryoga, do you know anything about Salsa dancing? Not that I care about this perverted idiot, but they way that guy danced was awfully graceful. And he looked really cool while he was walking away." Ranma twitched in the background. Damn that guy's coolness, damn it to hell!

"A-actually, I do. Martial Arts Salsa Dancing is kind of a specialized style, but I've dabbled a bit…"

"Dabbled?"

"Shut up Ranma!"

"Really, Ryoga?" Akane grabbed one of Ryoga's hands with her own. Probably not a good move, since Ranma was pretty sure the hotel would notice fist sized holes in the roof if nothing else. Briefly, the contemplated moving to the security of another building, just in case this one chose to collapse. It had been through a lot of stress lately. "Do you think you might be able to teach me a little bit of it? I've always wanted to know how to dance, and with it being a martial art too…"

"You, dance? No way." Ranma didn't get to continue this thought for long, since he abruptly found himself on one of the neighboring buildings anyway, courtesy of yet another Akane Power Punch. He still managed to catch the last few bits of the 'conversation' between the two remaining on the hotel rooftop though.

"So, would you be willing to teach me, just a little bit?"

"O-of course! I would be honored!"

"Thank you, Ryoga!" She paused for a moment and glanced towards Ranma, who stuck his tongue out at her from the safety of his rooftop crater. "And maybe you can help out that macho moron, so that he doesn't insult the name of Anything Goes School any more than he already does just by existing."

"For your sake, I shall try, Akane!" Ryoga probably would have agreed that the sky was, in fact, orange and that the moon was really the third Deathstar at that point, because Akane was still holding his hand.

"You're such a good friend, Ryoga… too bad _some_ people don't appreciate that." She rose to her feet, straightening her dress a little before starting to step away. "I'm going to go and change into something a little more comfortable for dancing and training... I'll see you in just a bit, okay?"

"O-okay!"

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And so, they retired to one of the garden areas behind the hotel, mostly because that was where Ryoga found himself after jumping off of the roof .There was no need to make things more complicated by actually trying to find a place with a dance floor, after all. Ranma was flopped out on his back on a wooden veranda, clearing his mind before beginning his Martial Arts Salsa Dancing training. It just wouldn't do to carry around extra things like thoughts when in the midst of intense physical activity. That being the case, he should ask the one question that was actually knocking around in this brain, just to get it out of the way. "Hey Ryoga."

"What?" The eternally lost one was stretching out a little ways off.

"How is it that you know all these weird martial arts? I mean you're pretty much an expert at Rhythmic Gymnastics and stuff too."

Ryoga paused for a moment before continuing to warm up. "None of your business."

"Oh ho." Ranma tilted his head to one side and grinned at his 'friend'. "Maybe there's something more behind this? Maybe you like learning all this freaky stuff? Or maybe…." he paused for a moment as a really strange idea occurred to him, "What style of martial arts do you practice anyway?"

"It's… a unique form."

"Reeealy? Are you sure you don't make up all these funky kinds, teach them to people, leave for a few years and come back to see if they're still practicing them?"

Maybe it was his imagination, but Ryoga twitched pretty badly with that supposition. "No way. That's ridiculous."

"You certainly have enough time on your hands…" It was terribly suspicious, but Ranma didn't really want to think that his guess just now had been right. That would be just way, way too strange even for Ryoga. But maybe it was a family tradition? He abruptly started wondering what the origins were behind Okonomiyaki-do…

"I have hobbies. Lots of them." Ryoga muttered, not bothering to turn and face him.

"Like Rhythmic Gymnastics and Salsa Dancing?"

"Shut up!"

The argument – and ensuing property damage – was cut short once again by female interruption. They were all conspiring to keep him from breaking things today, Ranma decided as Ukyo approached.

"Ranma Honey! Here you are."

"Yo Ucchan. What's up?"

"I'm here to help you out, of course!"

"Huh?" That was unexpected. Perhaps it shouldn't have been, but it was.

"With the Martial Arts Salsa Dancing! You don't know anything about it, do you? Don't worry, I'll partner up with out and we'll win that competition hands down!"

"Partner…?"

"Salsa is a couples dance! You have to have two people, a male-female pair." She informed him, looking kind of disturbingly gleeful to break the news to him. "You didn't know that?"

Ryoga cast a glance over his shoulder while Ranma was processing this new complexity. Suddenly, the pigtailed one was foreseeing a lot more pain, anxiety and serious social problems in his future. He was therefore sufficiently distracted that he didn't bother interrupting the following conversation, as strange as that may have been.

Ryoga began, actually taking the initiative to start a discussion in a normal tone of voice. "Oh, Ukyo. Good timing. It's convenient that you're here."

"Ryoga, long time no see! You still owe me money."

"What? No way! You're charging me for that?"

"I am a businesswoman, you know."

"Been taking lessons from Nabiki, I see."

"Be quiet! If she heard you say that… she'd probably charge you for reputation and name usage."

"Good point. Let's move on. I have better things to do than spend my entire evening with Ranma, after all."

She glared at him for that one, but obviously decided it wasn't worth following up on, especially since Ranma was too lost in his own contemplations at the moment to be suitably impressed by her defending his character against such words. She must have elected to be civil instead, which was a much better battle tactic against Ryoga since he never saw it coming. "It's good that you made it here too though. I was worried I wouldn't know enough Martial Arts Salsa Dancing moves to help him out in his fight."

"Waitaminnit! You actually know how to do Martial Arts Salsa Dancing, Ucchan?" Startled out of his tediously slow thought processes, Ranma turned to stare at her in surprise. He'd been thinking she had heard of it somewhere, or that regular salsa dancing was genetically preprogrammed into any female with an ounce of femininity... which explained why Akane couldn't do it.

He was now beginning to wonder if this was something like Martial Arts Calligraphy – where every martial artist since the dawn of time had known how to dance and it was some sort of indication of culture or whatever. If that was so, perhaps a drastic change of life goals was in order? It just wasn't worth it to have to learn things like dancing and writing when all you wanted to do was whup people in fights.

"I sure do! Ryoga taught me a bit a while back."

"He did?" Ranma blinked. That was a strange statement that probably needed some explanation… and why was Ryoga blushing as she told him that? Maybe he still hadn't recovered from her being polite a few moments before? Yes, that seemed likely.

"I don't really remember much of the circumstances, but it was when we won that trip to any hot springs in the world… we even came here, to Atami." Ukyo sat down on the edge of the porch next to Ranma's sprawled form. "I'd pretty much forgotten about it until Kuno's fight earlier."

"Huh. Well, if I gotta have a partner it's best that it's you, Ucchan!" Ranma rolled over and sat up, turning the charm up to High Beams. "After all, if I had to do it with Akane we'd lose for sure. She's got the grace of a hippopotamus, and there's no way she'd be able to dance!"

Ranma was abruptly nailed in the back of the head with a solid oak chest of drawers. It looked pretty expensive, so he knew he'd have to destroy the evidence later.

"Ranma!" Akane was closing in, but Ryoga beat her to the scene.

"How dare you insult Akane in such a way?! Die, you insensitive moron!"

And so, Ranma got to destroy some property after all. It was only a small part of a decorative wall, but he felt much better after tossing Ryoga through the cement and brickwork. Both boys then dusted themselves off and returned to the issue at present, while the girls had procured a pot of tea from somewhere in the interim. Akane had apparently been placated by nailing Ranma with furniture and Ryoga stepping in to beat on him.

"So, both Ryoga and Ukyo know Martial Arts Salsa Dancing…" Apparently Akane had been filled in as to the pertinent information at hand. "I guess we're really lucky for that!"

Ukyo nodded, sipping her drink. "It's not a very well known style, I know. I'm kind of surprised we'd run into it again… but maybe it's just the air here in Atami."

"Actually, the Kinryuou School is located not far from here." Ryoga shared as he and Ranma sat down as well. "The fighters from there are probably scattered all over the surrounding area."

"Are you sure? I mean, their dojo could be located in Hokkaido for all _you_ know, right P-chan?"

"Who's P-chan?!" Ryoga spat reflexively before resuming the conversation. The rest of the party was unfazed, as such things were just plain routine. "Anyway, we might as well get started with the training. We only have a week, right?"

Ranma yawned lazily. After getting a chance to spar with Ryoga, the idea of ending the evening with dancing was looking less and less appealing. Maybe he should just skip out now? It's not like he'd miss anything, since he was sure Nabiki would be selling pictures in the street in a few hours anyway.

His schemes were abruptly truncated by the sensation of something really cold running down through his hair and across his shoulders. Namely, this substance was what is commonly referred to as _mizu_, aqua, dihydrogen monoxide, et cetera. Water. The person who introduced it to the top of his head was none other than Ryoga, who apparently didn't want to do much salsa dancing that night either. Where he got ice cold water from at such short notice wasn't really an issue, since the stuff just fell from the sky whenever it felt like it, and more often than not on the locations where Jusenkyou cursed people were at.

"What the hell? Ryoga!" Damn. His voice was even embarrassingly squeaky due to both the gender change and temperature shock. Definitely not cool or graceful. He was taking steps backward in his progress.

Ryoga snorted and rose to his feet, shoving the small canteen he'd used to douse Ranma with back into his backpack, which was sitting off to one side. "Come on. We've got a time limit, and salsa dancing is for couples, remember? And I refuse to dance with you as a guy."

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**Next Time**: **Dance Lessons are Never Free! Ryoga's Fierce Training**

I know, that's the title I said I was going to use for this chapter… I changed my mind, okay? Sheesh…

**A Final Note**: No pairings in this fic. Well, maybe a little RanmaxAkane, but only because it's totally canon and you can't have Ranma without it. All these interactions are based on actual character traits of these guys straight from the anime & manga, as I see it. I might hint a little bit towards things (like a RyogaxUkyo pairing) but I will not be contaminating this fic with my own fancies. That's what side stories are for. I'm also not bashing Akane – I like her quite a bit! This story is told from Ranma's point of view however, so we can't expect flattery and praise.

P.S. –There's no real, good translation of 'Ucchan', Ranma's nickname for Ukyo, so I had to use the Japanese version… it sounds better anyway. I wish I didn't have to use 'Ranma Honey', but I have my principles…

P.P.S. -The moon really is the third Deathstar. You thought the Star Wars program disappeared in the 90's? You were WRONG!


End file.
